


Screw Christmas.

by Starkvenger



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Are Assholes, Avengers Tower, Bad Ending, Childhood Memories, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Tree, Domestic Avengers, Ficlet, Holidays, Tony Being Tony, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkvenger/pseuds/Starkvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holidays at Avengers' tower can get pretty interesting. Being superheroes, they don't really get time to themselves to enjoy each other's company.<br/>Christmas at the tower is usually- well, just Tony and Bruce.<br/>For Example:<br/>Christmas 2012- Natasha & Clint were stuck in Alaska while Steve and Thor were in Elfenheim.<br/>~<br/>Christmas 2013- Thor was busy with some worm hole thing, while Steve and Natasha were on missions for SHIELD. Clint had been busy doing who knows what.<br/>~<br/>Christmas 2014- Tony had been pronounced dead and had spent the time fighting Killian, Steve & Natasha were looking for Steve's old buddy, and Clint had- again, been doing who knows what.<br/>~<br/>This Christmas though- this one is gonna be different. Tony's going to make sure of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screw Christmas.

~ ~ ~

It was early December in the Avengers' tower, the thick scent of mint and vanilla filling the air of the penthouse. Dark, luscious green pine branches hang from the walls, bright red holly berries scattered about the needles. Colorful, twinkling lights adorned the kitchen, wrapping around the column in the center of the room and draping against the edge of the counter, the soft light making the room feel warm and homey.

Varying objects were scattered around the penthouse, from glittering pinecones to shining glass vases filled with dazzling red and gold ornaments. Poinsettias littered the floor, the plants giving each room a dash of color and life. In the living room, the main attraction sat in the corner, the TV beside it.

The towering evergreen stood a staggering 7 foot 2 inches tall, covered head to toe in varying colorful ornaments, glistening golden tinsel, fluffy popcorn and radiant holly. 

Under the tree sat boxes of varying shape and sizes, in all shades of wrapping paper, from gold to navy blue. They were all topped with gorgeous shimmering silver bows, perfectly bound and placed to look like a magazine cover.

Moving up the stairs and into the lounge, tinsel hung from the walls, twisted together to create a silvery golden display. Tony stood atop a ladder, fixing the strings so that they lined up to his liking. 

"Perfect." he said, stepping down off the ladder. He clapped it closed, leaning it against the wall. The billionaire took a step back, wiping his forehead with his sleeve as he admired his handy work. He had sent the team away for the weekend, (with some help from SHIELD, of course) so that he could surprise them.

It was going to be their first Christmas as a team, seeing as how last year they had to spend the holiday tracking down Dr. Doom cause the Not-So-Fantastic Four were in Tahiti. The year before that, Natasha and Clint were stuck in Alaska while Steve and Thor had gotten stuck in Elfenheim for a month. Anyways, Tony wanted to make this one special, since it was technically their first at home as a family. 

Tony sighed, picking up the ladder with a grunt. He carried it slowly down the hall, opening the closet door and setting it inside. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen, checking his watch. "Alright. Alright. 7 hours until their back." he had done the math, taking into consideration how quick they could fight, clean up, damage report, and medical attention, and had come up with at  _least_ 7.1 hours until they would walk through the elevator doors, or at least, come in from the helipad. 

That gave him just enough time to cook _some_ kind of meal. While it was a pretty well-known fact that Tony was a terrible cook, that was only true with things he didn't know by heart. An example of this would be eggs. Something he did know how to cook, very well, he may add, was Italian food. 

He had grown up embracing his mother's Italian roots by helping her cook an assortment of goods, including porcaloca, tortelloni, panzanella, cotoletta, and a lot of other things. So- it wasn't that he didn't know how to cook, he just didn't know how to cook something that wasn't Italian. 

Tony opened the fridge and gathered the ingredients he had bought yesterday, the delivery service putting them just how he liked them. He pulled out various meat and cheeses, vegetables and oils, then strode quickly across the room to the cabinet. He grabbed bowls of varying sizes, along with 5 different pans. Once he had everything, he grabbed the footstool out from under the sink and set it next to a cabinet, stepping up and reaching to the very top of the wooden structure. 

He smiled when he felt it, pulling out a dust-covered, color-faded leather book. It had the words 'Maria Stark' engraved on the cover, and he blew the dust away to grin at the words. Tony set the old book on the counter, opening it gently as to not rip the yellowing pages. "Alright...where is it..." he muttered as the flipped page after page. 

The billionaire finally found the one he'd been looking for, a page with the words "Roasted Capon" written in cursive on it. The words tugged at his chest, remembering that it was only during the holidays that his father didn't force him to make weapons, the only time he could really spend quality time with his mother. The man remembered vividly how on December 25th, 7:00 am on the dot, he would creep into his parents' room and poke at his mother's blankets, waking her up. 

She would take him down the stairs, turn on the lights as the living room and Tony's eyes would light up. He'd barrel the rest of the way down, stumble a bit, and grin excitedly at the colorful boxes under the tree.

His mother would brew a cup of coffee for herself and a cup of hot chocolate for him, sticking a candy cane inside and stirring it for him. They would spend the morning opening gifts and enjoying each others company, then Tony would sit on the floor and play with a train or a plane as he mother watched happily. 

The man blinked, the familiar smell of mint and joy he had tried so hard to recreate in his own home disappearing, leaving him alone, staring at his mother's handwriting in an old cookbook. He ran his hand over the page, tears welling up in his eyes. Tony shook his head, wiping them with his sleeve as he set to work. 

It took an hour for him to fully prepare the dish, and as he slid it into the oven, Tony set the timer for 4 hours. That would give him just enough time to make drinks and finish the topping for the bird. The billionaire gathered the dishes and began to scrub them in the sink, humming a song he knew by heart from his youth. 

After half an hour of scrubbing, Tony's hands were pruned and aching, but he had finished the dishes and countertops. The genius sighed, smiling as he checked the time. With the estimated time of arrival still in his head, he set off to continue his work around the penthouse.

~ ~ ~

Tony made his way to the living room, turning on the tv to a fireplace setting, seeing as how he didn't own a fireplace. He walked through the room, looking to the wall where the stockings were hung, each customized for its specific person. He smiled, continuing on down the stairs to the lab. The billionaire opened the door to see two large bots, DUM-E, and U, rolling towards him as they chirped and beeped happily. 

"Hey, there are my favorite boys!" he said, patting the robots on the claws. DUM-E  had on top his claw a small, bright red Santa hat, to which Tony let out a chuckle. "Nice, very festive," he commented, turning to U to give him a pat.

The smaller robot chirped, swinging the small piece of mistletoe it had clutched in its claw. Tony raised a brow, shaking his head. "Sneaky," he said, giving a quick peck to the bot's mechanical arm. 

"Jarvis, where's the team?" Tony asked as he continued walking, the bots content to chasing each other around. " _The Avengers are approximately 30 minutes away from the tower, sir,_ " Jarvis replied helpfully, as the genius sat down in his chair. "Cool. Where'd I put their gifts?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back. " _They are hidden in the panel concealed under your roadster, sir._ " Jarvis. Always so helpful. 

"Thanks, J. Make sure Barton stays away from that spot," he told the AI, watching the bots play. "Shit, I'd better check on the capon," Tony said, jumping up out of his seat and shutting off the lights as he ran out of the lab, leaving two very confused bots to smack into each other.

The genius ran up the stairs, sliding into the kitchen and putting on gloves. He pulled out the capon, steam rolling off and curling in the air. He took a deep breath, the salty-sweet smell near-intoxicating. "Perfect." he said quietly, grabbing a spoon and stirring the sauce that had been put off to simmer. He smiled at the caramel-colored mix, taking a bit a slathering it over the bird. 

He artistically drizzled it over the capon, smiling as he remembered the first time he did this, when he was only 8. His mother had told him that the sauce dried quickly, so he had to put it on as soon as he took it off the heat.

Tony remembered that he had ended up putting all of the sauce in one spot, making that piece incredibly sweet. His mother thought it was endearing, telling him that the meat was just like him. He shook the memory from his head, blinking as he set the spoon back in the pan.

Tony put a glass lid over the display plate, setting it in the center of the table on a pristine white cloth, bordered with holly berries. He licked his finger, smiling at the familiar taste. " _Estimated team arrival: 15 minutes, sir._ " Jarvis chimed, pulling Tony from his gaze. "Right. Thanks, J." he said, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. He drew the dark red curtains closed, so the team wouldn't see anything inside until they came in. 

He then walked to the tree, which had previously been off, and with the click of a button, came alive with shimmering, colorful lights that twinkled in rhythmic unison. The man smiled, looking to the ceiling in a silent jab for approval. " _It looks wonderful, sir._ " Jarvis replied, to which Tony smiled with pride. " _The Avengers will be back in less than 10 minutes, sir._ " the AI warned.

Tony nodded, stepping back. "Alright," he said as he put on a bright red and gold Santa hat. He opened the door that led to the balcony/helicopter pad, crossing his arms as he waited for the jet to appear in the sky. He tapped his foot impatiently, looking over his shoulder at the closed door before the whir of helicopter blades caught his attention.

He smiled, waving to the group as they landed. The heroes stepped off the plane with confused looks, probably because Tony never greeted anyone when they landed. Clint carried about 7 pizza boxes, which puzzled Tony. "Hey! Stark! We stopped by a pizza place and got dinner. You can have this one, we all ate on the way." he said cooly.

Tony's heart dropped to his stomach, his chest feeling tight. "R-really?" he asked, watching as they filed inside. 

He dropped the cardboard boxed as squeezed in after them, watching the group move about the room. "Do uh, do you like it?" he asked with a smile. Natasha nodded, picking up a pinecone. "Yea. Who'd you hire?" she asked, setting it back in its place. 

Tony furrowed his brow, shaking his head. "No one. I did it." he said with a nervous smile. 

Clint raised a brow this time, turning to face him. "Sure. You did all of this. On your own." he said with a chuckle. Tony felt his heart drop even lower, trying to shake off the pain. 

"Avengers! Come look in the lounge!" Thor said, his voice coming from the lounge. They shuffled into the room, tinsel catching the light and glimmering beautifully. Tony looked at their faces, they nodding and turning right back around. They- they weren't impressed with his work? Tony felt a sharp pain in his chest at this point, and his throat was getting thick. 

"Guys! Come in the kitchen!" Bruce sounded excited, which caused the group to move quickly into the room. Tony squeezed in between them and stood by the table, which all of them were staring at. "Tony, did you make this?" Bruce asked, taking the lid off of the capon. Tony swallowed the lump in his throat, standing up taller. "Yep." he said, looking at the group sternly as he nodded. 

That only lasted for a moment, before the team (excluding Bruce) bursted out laughing. "Really Stark? I mean, decor is one thing, but, we all know you can't cook." Steve said, a small smile on his face. Not Steve. Anyone but Steve.

Tony felt his heart shatter, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. "Ok. Fine. Believe what you want." he said angrily, shoving the capon off of the table and sending it crashing to the floor. The billionaire growled, shoving both Steve and Clint out of the way as he stomped into the living room.

Tears began to form in his eyes as he tore the stockings off the walls, running to the tree and pushing it over, sending it crashing to the carpet in sparks and shattered glass. "I TRIED. I DID. BUT IF YOU'RE GOING TO BELIEVE SHIT, THEN WHY AM I EVEN HERE?!?" he yelled, running down the hall before anyone could speak.

He slammed the large door to his bedroom, much like a teenager would, and collapsed on the bed. He shut his eyes tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he let out his pent up anger and sadness into the pillows. The room was dark and Tony couldn't see anything but the hallway light, which pissed him off more. 

Memories flooded his mind, his father yelling at him, telling him that the holiday was a waste of time and that he shouldn't bother. He heard the man's screams, replayed over and over, until he felt he would go deaf from the yelling. 

"I- I should have listened..." he muttered into his pillow, when he heard a knock at his door. Tony paused, looking up and staring angrily at the only thing separating him and another person. He them picked up vase and chucked it, the ceramic figure shattering against the door. The figure said nothing, but Tony heard retreating footsteps. Good. He didn't need them.

He didn't need anyone. 

~ ~ ~

Back in the kitchen, stunned silence filled the room, everyone afraid to move or speak. Nervous glances were exchanged before Bruce took off. "Tony, wait!" he said as he followed the man down the hall. He turned back to the rest of them, shaking his head.

"You know, you guys aren't ever here for Christmas. But I am. Every year, Tony tries. He tries to make the best of the situation, and every year we celebrate together. He cooks special Italian food that his mom taught him, and we watch movies together. True, he's never decorated before, but maybe he wanted to make this year special. And you four just fucked it up." he said, jogging down the hall. 

Bruce came up to the door, knocking lightly. He heard a sniffle, followed by shattered glass. The scientist sighed, sitting down by the door just enough so that his shadow didn't show. 

After a few minutes, he stood and knocked on the door again, and again, the same response. "Tony. It's Bruce." he said, biting his lip. "Please let me in..." he said, waiting. The man was about to leave when the door opened, Tony showing his red eyes and wet cheeks. "B-Bruce..." he said quietly, and the scientist nodded.

He stepped inside the room, putting his arm around the shorter man as they walked back to the bed. 

"I'm sorry Tony...I really am." he said, as if that would change anything. 

Tony sniffed, keeping his head drooped in his hands. "Why didn't they like it...?" he mumbled, looking over to the man. "I- I didn't hire anyone, Bruce! I s-swear..." he said, hiccuping. Bruce nodded, rubbing his back. "I know. I spend every Christmas with you. And I know you cooked that meal. It looked great." he said, trying to comfort him. "I'm sorry." he said again.

The shorter man shrugged, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "38 hours," he said quietly. Bruce furrowed his brow. "What?" he asked. Tony looked up at him straight-faced. "38. hours. That's how long I spent decorating. All for nothing." he said, collapsing into a muttering ball in his lap. Then- they heard a knock.

"GO AWAY YOU FUCKING BASTARDS." was the first and only thing Tony said, but the knocking persisted. Bruce watched as Tony sat up, walked over to the side of his bed, and attached an iron man gauntlet. He strode quickly to the door and opened it, repulsor ready to fire. "What the fuck do you want," he growled, staring coldly into the eyes of Steve Rogers, who, was surprised by the weapon shoved in his face.  

"I- I wanted to say sorry." he said, swallowing thickly. Tony grit his teeth, slamming the door in his face. "Apology not accepted." he spat, walking back to the bed. "Merry Fucking Christmas Bruce. Screw this holiday."

Bruce sighed. Another Christmas. Down the drain.  

**Author's Note:**

> Yea, IDK. Bad ending to a christmas fic? meh. Whatever...


End file.
